Racing Heartbeats
by xXCarlaLouiseXx
Summary: A South Park x Pushing Daisies crossover. They're both epic in my opinion, so this needed to be done.
1. Introduction

**A/N: I decided to write a South Park x Pushing Daisies crossover because I love both shows so much. I'm not going to follow the storylines exactly, but I will use quotes here and there that I really love, like the conversation between Ned and Emerson where they're trying to decide what to call the dead people and Olive jumps in (makes me laugh every time lol).**

**Idk yet whether to do a really long-ass fanfic or write a fic for each case though because I've already written a chapter and it hasn't even reached the part in Pushing Daisies where the opening credits are lol. What do you think would be best?**

**Anyways, here it is...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or Pushing Daisies.**

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**INTRODUCTION**

Touch...

If you were to search for this extremely under rated five letter word you would find something along the lines of: To cause or permit a part of the body, especially the hand or fingers, to come in contact with something or someone so as to feel. However, touch is much more than that, much more than just physical contact with an object or person.

Touch is a small, frightened child clinging desperately to their baby blanket, after waking up from a nightare as their overactive imagination congures up monsters that aren't really there. Touch is a mother placing a gentle kiss on their child's forehead on their first day of school, causing an instant, firey blush, filled with embarassment as the child rubs said forhead in an attempt to get rid of the 'mom germs'. Touch is an eight year old red head holding a dying French kid in his arms, willing for him to hold on to live just a little longer.

Touch is a fifteen year old, raven haired girl gently caressing her long-term boyfriend's cheek with guilt filled violet eyes before reluctantly turning and walking out of his life... forever. Touch is long, thin fingers running through short, midnight black hair as a Jewish teen clutches his hysterically sobbing, super best friend to his chest. Touch is the tight embrace shared between a ten year old, normally stoic, male orphan and a sorrowfull, twitchy blonde before the first of the two climbs into his aunts' car and leaves town for good.

It is probably the most important of our five senses, it's how we explore the world around us. The removal of sight or hearing would be temporarily devestating, but as humans we would find a way to cope. To lose one's sense of touch, however, would be a tragedy of epic proportions, it would be a heartbraking event to endure. Touch is a universal laguage, without it we would be unable to express our iner most feelings when there are no words that could possibly do an adequate job of describing them. Touch is extremely important and special...

...and for a certain blonde coffee maker it means bringing life to the deceased.


	2. A gift that gives and takes

**A/N: So I decided to stick with the storyline of Pushing Daisies pretty much for this chapter. Also I will try my best to keep it in the style of Pushing Daisies, but it won't follow the exact same storylines as the series does.**

**Hope you like this.**

**I do not own South Park or Pushing Daisies.**

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**At this very moment in the town of South Park young Tweek was ten years, two weeks, six days and nine minutes old. His best friend's guinea pig, Stripes, was three years, one week, five days, four hours and eight minutes old... and not a minute older.

Tweek was having a sleepover at his best friend Craig's house, and said best friend had left the room in order to go to the bathroom when young Tweek discovered something very peculiar about Stripes. The guinea pig in question was lying on the floor of his cage, not moving, his little chest ceasing to rise and fall gently with the steady pattern of his breathing. Tweek -being as paranoid as he was- knew what would happen. The next morning Craig's parents would find the guinea pig, get rid of the evidence and inform Craig that one of his best friends and most trusted confidant had 'gone to a better place', of course the kids knew what that was really code for, they just didn't let their parents know in fear of upsetting them.

So Tweek decided to take action and did something he would never usually do for fear of being bitten. He slowly reached into the cage, planning to remove the guinea pig and replace it before his friend bothered to check the cage. However, the second the tip of his finger came into contact with Stipes, a bright, golden glow emmited from the creatures body, as the glow faded the guinea pig began to move again, his chest rising and falling once more.

The young blonde swiftly retracted his hand from the cage, staring at it through wide, coffee coloured eyes as the reality of the past few minutes hit him.

This was the moment Tweek Tweak realized he wasn't like the other children. Nor was he like anyone else for that matter. Tweek Tweak could touch dead things and bring them back to life. This touch was a gift given to him, but not by anyone in paticular. There was no box, no instructions, no manufacturer's warranty and -as much as Tweek wished otherwise- no return option.

It just was.

The terms of use weren't immediately clear, but one, fatefull morning they were unfortunately clarified.

Tweek was sat at the kitchen table, waiting for his mom to hand him his morning coffee, when Mrs Tweak had an unexpected heart attack. Her pale, lifeless body dropped to the ground, her mid lenght, brunette hair splayed out messily across the carpet. She stared up at the plain, white ceiling through dull, vacant brown eyes. The blonde practically flew from his chair, crouching at her side "Oh Jesus!" he whispered frantically. "M-mom?" he asked with wide, fearfull, coffee brown eyes. When no response came from the brunette woman, he tentatively reached out and prodded her arm lightly with his index finger.

The reaction was almost instant. A golden glow spread over Mrs Tweak's body, illuminating her soft skin and motherly features, before the glow faded and her eyes slowly lit up with life again. She took in a sharp gasp of air, proping herself up on her elbows and smiling as if nothing had happened. "Sorry Tweek, I must have dozed off for a second," she appologised, standing up and returning to the steaming pot of coffee she had previously been tending to. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately, I seem to be falling asleep all the time. I think I need a good night's sleep, do you agree Tweek?" The blonde didn't answer at first, being new to his ability, it still had the tendancy to take him by surprise. "...Tweekers?" his mother questioned, a look of concern etched over her features at seeing her son so uncharacteristically still and focused.

"Yeah -gah- I agree," the blonde replied shakily before brushing off the fact that he had just awoken the dead and taking his seat again. There were only two people in the world who called him Tweekers, one being his mother. The second person, however, was his best friend, a raven haired, stoic kid by the name of Craig Tucker,

Craig Tucker was ten years, twenty seven weeks, three days and five minutes old. He was seemingly emotionless young boy, who liked the simple, boring life. Unfortunately he was about to experience the exact opposite of boring...

At precisely tweleve minutes past eight in the morning, exactly one minute after Tweek had discovered his gift, Craig Tucker was helping his father clean leaves of their driveway when Mr Tucker fell to the floor... dead.

Young Tweek's random gift that was came with a rule or two.

It was a gift that not only gave... it took. Tweek Tweak discovered that he could only bring the dead back to life for one minute without consequence. Any longer and someone else had to die. To put it simply, young Tweek had traded his mother's life for Craig's father's.

Then he discovered the second and most important rule the most unfortunate way. He was attempting to drift off to sleep when his mother ascended the stairs. Normally, his mom would shout "Goodnight Tweekers!" from the hallway, before dissappearing. However, that night fate had presented he with the urge to kiss her son goodnight. The second her lips touched his cheek a cold, blue glow enveloped her body and she slumped backwards onto the carpeted floor, her body lifeless once more.

Tweek jumped out of bed, pressing his hand to her forehead in an unsuccessfull attempt to revive her again.

What Tweek didn't know back then was a simple formula that he had now memorized by heart. First touch: life. Second touch: dead again, forever.

At their respective parents funerals, dizzy with grief, curiosity and hormones, neither of them in the right state of mind to consider their actions, young Tweek and his best friend Craig had their first and only kiss.

It was towards the end of this year that his best friend's mother was also claimed by the welcoming arms of death, forcing him to leave town with his younger sister Ruby, in order to live with his aunts. Leaving only his guinea pig behind for Tweek to look after, due to his aunts' allergies.

From that moment on Tweek Tweak avoided social attachments, fearing what would happen if someone else he loved died. And he became obsessed with coffee.

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It's ten years, one week, two days and fifty nine minutes later. Otherwise known as now. Young Tweek is now not so young at the age of twenty years old. Also, not-so-young Tweek has become a coffee maker.

He has taken over his father's business, taking on Kenny McCormick as an assistant. His dad having retired the second he thought his son was old enough to cope alone. Deciding to travel the world in hopes of ridding himself of the depression he still felt over the death of his wife.

Today is a day just like any other, Tweek is throwing all of his focus and emotions into his job and Kenny is talking to Clyde Donovan instead of doing his job.

"No it totally makes sense dude, you're just not getting it," Kenny states, shaking his head stubbornly.

"Then explain it to me because right now you just sound insane," Clyde replies.

"Ok," Kenny smiled. "So every day I pick a drink from the menu, I concentrate all my love on that drink because if I love it then someone else is gonna love it. And you know what? By the end of the day I've sold more of that beverage than any other in this coffee shop."

"So which drink do you love today?" Clyde asks, going along with it eventhough he still thought Kenny sounded like a mad man.

"Latte" Kenny answers.

"I'll have a hot chocolate then," Clyde deadpans, causing the blondes smile to melt into a glare as he went to give Tweek the order.

Clyde Donovan was a private detective and the sole keeper of Tweek's secret. In fact, he discovered the twitchy blonde's secret on one of his cases.

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He was in pursuit of a murderer when the criminal decided to turn it into a rooftop chase, a decision, which ironically, would quite literally be his downfall. The murderer misjudged a gap, crashing against the side of the next building and hurtling towards the ground. His lifeless body bounced off a dumpster, which just happened to be in the alley beside Tweek's coffee shop, as Tweek just happened to be walking through the alley with the intent of disposing of the coffee shop's waste. The corpse flopped backwards, it's arm pressing against the coffee maker's face and bringing him back to life instantly. A look of surprise crossed over the previously dead criminal's face before he tried to escape again, only to have Tweek quickly reach out and poke the back of his neck, thus ending his life again.

An involuntary shudder crept through Tweek's body at the unwanted touch that had previously occured. Then the blonde immediately froze. Sensing that he was being watched, the blonde slowly turned, only to leap into a paranoid rant as soon as he caught sight of the wide, brown eyes of Clyde. However, the brunette had already figured out that keeping Tweek's secret would be more beneficial to him than unveiling it to the world. You see, Clyde may not have been studious, but he wasn't a complete fool. He knew that a murder would be much easier to solve if you could ask the victim who killed them.

"So you touch dead people and they turn into zombies?" Clyde had asked, Tweek having invited him into the coffee shop after closing time for a private conversation.

"Nnngh dude, don't call them z-zombies!" Tweek screeched, his trembling hands grasping his wild hair. "Oh Jesus! They don't go stumbling around eating brains! And undead -ack- why begin with a negative? Nobody wants to b-be unanything. It's like saying I don't disagree! It doesn't make sense man! Why not just call them what they are, alive again."

"Because it makes you sound like a narcoleptic," Clyde argued.

"Someone who suffers from -gah- sudden and uncontrollable attacks of sleep?" Tweek asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"No," Clyde answered with a sigh. "What's the word that I'm looking for?"

"Necrophiliac," Tweek stated.

"That's it," Clyde said, clicking his fingers. "Sorry, words that sound alike get mixed up in my head."

"Me too," Kenny interupted, catching the end of the conversation as he cleaned the tables. "I used to think masturbation meant chewing your food." Both boys shot Kenny a weird look, before the blonde added "I don't anymore."

"Nnngh- can you lock the door behind you?" Tweek asked, causing Kenny to sulk away.

As soon as the shorter blonde was out of sight Clyde continued the conversation "So, will you work with me? Do we have a deal?"

Tweek nodded reluctantly.

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Today they make an excellent murder solving team. Tweek brings the victim back for less than a minute, ask them how they died, and then touch them for a second time, ending their live once more. Clyde gets to inform his clients of how the victim died and keep the larger percentage of profits he made from cases.

Tweek leans against the counter, focusing contentedly on perfecting a cappucino for one of his customers. "Watcha doing?" Kenny asks, pushing the boundaries of Tweek's 'no contact' rule by getting as close to the taller blonde as he can. It's no secret that Kenny is waiting for the day Tweek comes to his senses and accepts the parka wearing blonde into his life and his heart. The formerly poor blonde even goes as far as to look after Stripes, the guinea pig being one of his only connections to the coffee maker and an excuse to enter his apartment on a regular basis. However, Tweek finds Kenny's obsession with him highly disturbing.

"Nngh- my job," Tweek replies, trying desperately to stay focused, eventhough Kenny is now inches away from his face. "M-maybe you should -ack- try it some time," but the effect of his jabbing comment was ruined when Tweek finally cringes away from the other guy, his proximity becoming too much for the twitchy blonde to handle.

Kenny chuckles, running his hand through his tousled, sandy blonde locks and sighing, letting his bright, blue eyes pierce Tweek's brown ones "Why are you so afraid of being touched?" Kenny asks, reaching forwards slowly and tentatively resting his hand on Tweek's shoulder. "See?" he questions. "Why can't you let people do this? Why can't you let people in?"

Tweek swallows anxiously, his face threatening to burn with a fierce blush, before the door swings open revealing a flustered and excited Clyde. "We have a case!" he shouts. Tweek rolls his eyes and turns away from Kenny -although he's never been so happy to see Clyde in his life- picking up the cappucino and stepping out from behind the counter to deliver the beverage to it's rightfull owner at table five. The brunette boy switches on the small TV in the corner, changing it to the news and turning the volume up.

"And in other news the body of a twenty year old male was found today," the news reporter announces. "It is believed that the twenty year old was murdered in the early hours of the morning, not far from his home in Middle Park." Tweek begins to shake even more violently than usual. "The young male's family have itentified the body as that of a boy by the name of Craig Tucker..."

The reporter's voice faded away as Tweek slowly detaches himself from the rest of the world, retreating into his mind as he processes the information.

His best and closest friend has just been found dead.

Tweek's grip on the coffee mug is forgotten and the china hits the floor, smashing into a million cream coloured shards as he presses his hands to his face. "Alright!" Kenny calls. "Everybody out! Nothing to see here!" before throwing his arms around the distressed blonde and pointlessly whispering comforting words into his ear.

"I'm so sorry Tweek," Clyde states. "I didn't realise..." he trails off guiltily

Tweek takes a deep, shaky breath -glistening tears rolling down his cheeks- before uttering two words that had been repeatedly circling around in his head since he heard Craig's name... "Oh Jesus!"


End file.
